


Social Niceties

by orphan_account



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M, Modern Setting, Yoga Class, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 13:17:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12036678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Baze scoffed.  “What are you, a therapist?”Chirrut’s smile widened, bright like the sun.  “Am I really so obvious?”“You’re serious,” Baze said.Chirrut shrugged.  “Is it such a shock.”Baze stared at him for a long moment, then said, “So what do I owe you for that little session then, doc?”Chirrut’s eyes widened, then he laughed and laughed until the teacher arrived, and class began.





	Social Niceties

**Author's Note:**

> SpiritAssassin ficlet because I love them so much.
> 
> Yoga Class Meet Cute. Mostly based off my ridiculous inability to say no to people. The moral of the story is: Say no or you get roped into things like weekend yoga classes with your new neighbour.

It was his own fault, really. Him and his big, ridiculous mouth and social niceties and his inability to think before agreeing to something as heinous, as horrible, as absurd as this. And yet, here he was, stood outside of the studio with fogged windows wearing tight, uncomfortable shorts and a tank top, holding a rolled up, purple rubber mat he bought on his way over here from the nearest Target he could find.

Yoga.

Really, he wanted to blame the neighbour, but it was his own fault. He’d been distracted by the mess of weeds he still needed to clear away from his back garden, and he was sweaty and exhausted and in desperate need of a cool glass of water. And his neighbour was nice—new to the area, confused, a little lonely, and wouldn’t stop talking.

So when she said, “Hey, there’s this studio right up the street that has yoga classes for like five bucks on Saturday mornings, would you want to go? We could be yoga buddies, you know? Keep each other accountable?”

He’d just said, “Yeah, okay, sure.”

Then she’d asked for his phone and she put in her number and sent herself a text and he was finally able to escape.

He hadn’t really thought twice until Friday evening when the little message pinged through. 

**Hey, it’s Jessika, do you still want to grab that yoga class?**

Baze wanted to fling himself from a cliff. He thought of a hundred, thousand reasons why he could say no, but each of them was more ridiculous than the last, and he could only use them so many times before he either caved and told her he had no real intention of going to or enjoying a yoga class with her, or just gave in and went along.

He chose option B, and hoped maybe he would be just unpleasant enough that she wouldn’t ask him to come long again.

If only she’d actually shown up.

The class was meant to start in five minutes, and people were already heading into the building. Baze sighed, went in, dropped his five bucks in the metal bowl, signed his name on the sign-in sheet and walked into the warm room. It was pleasant enough, if not a little… _enlightened white girl_ , as Jyn would call it, with the Hindu statues, and the paintings of clouds, and the soft Enya in the background.

But the wood floors were warm, and the mirrors weren’t as uncomfortable as he thought they might be. That wasn’t to say he didn’t look ridiculous there in his too-tight clothing with his cheap yoga mat. But he found a spot near the back, and unrolled it and sat.

He watched a few people moving into different poses and stretches, and thought he should probably actually attempt to warm up while he waited for Jessika to show up. He wasn’t unfamiliar with exercise forms, and he knew what it could do to a body if he tried to move into something with cold, stiff muscles. But the idea of drawing attention to himself was…

_Bzzzzt._

Baze snatched up his phone and stared at the screen with a heavy sigh.

**I am so sorry, I got called into work, I can’t make it. Next week?**

He’d half a mind to throw his phone across the room. And he’d half a mind to roll up his mat and bail before anyone noticed. In fact, he moved to do exactly, sitting up on his knees as he reached for the end of his yoga mat, when something hard and metal smacked him on the ass.

He made a startled noise and turned just as a man nearby gasped. “Oh my god, I am so sorry. This is my usual spot. I had no idea anyone was there. Are you alright?”

Baze froze, his heart hammering in his chest as he took the other man in. He was lithe, wearing loose work-out bottoms and a tank-top. His head was shaved, his jaw chiselled and face prettier than Baze had seen in a long time. He was staring down with eyes blue-white with corneal scarring, and holding a white-cane which was the thing that had smacked Baze on his backside.

“I,” Baze said, realising he owed this man who couldn’t see him, at least some sort of verbal communication. “I’m fine, it’s…fine. I was just…let me get out of your way.”

“No, no. You stay. I can adjust.” The man quickly set his things down, and with precision, unrolled a brightly decorated yoga mat that looked very well used. “I’m excited there’s another man in the class.” Then he froze and flushed. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t ever assume. You just sounded…I…”

“I am,” Baze said gruffly, shrugging. “A man, I mean. I am. It’s fine.”

The man’s shoulders relaxed. “Well. Me too. I’m Chirrut.” He stuck out his hand, and Baze—again with those forced social niceties, though this one felt better than agreeing to a yoga class—took it.

“Baze Malbus,” he grunted out.

“Not a big conversationalist. That’s fine,” Chirrut said as he shifted into a stretch. He pressed his fingers into the mat, then lifted up into a position that made him look like a giant A. “I’ve been told I talk enough for ten men. Which you’re probably regretting sitting next to me now.”

Baze had to drag his eyes away from admiring the man’s sharp, careful form. “It’s fine,” he said again.

Chirrut laughed softly as he sank back down, chest over his curled knees, then rolled up to sit back on his heels. “Is this your first yoga class ever?”

Baze sighed. “Am I that obvious?”

“Just a clever guess,” Chirrut said, then winked and felt out with his fingertips until they touched his water bottle.

“My neighbour talked me into it.” Which was…a bit of a stretch, but whatever. “She didn’t show.”

Chirrut let out a tiny gasp, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “She stood you up. No second date for her, I assume?”

“Oh I…no.” Baze flushed hotly, not sure why it was important Chirrut got the wrong idea. “No, it wasn’t a date. She and her girlfriend just moved in next door and I think she was…lonely.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not very…sociable.”

“Hmm.”

Baze raised a brow as he twisted to stretch his back a little, telling himself it was for the greater good of his own body. “Hmm?”

Chirrut shrugged, then put his legs out in front of him and reached for his toes. Unconsciously, Baze copied the stretch. “I just think maybe you’ve spent a lot of time telling yourself you’re not sociable to cover for the sting of rejection when you’re not exactly what people expect.”

Baze scoffed. “What are you, a therapist?”

Chirrut’s smile widened, bright like the sun. “Am I really so obvious?”

“You’re serious,” Baze said.

Chirrut shrugged. “Is it such a shock.”

Baze stared at him for a long moment, then said, “So what do I owe you for that little session then, doc?”

Chirrut’s eyes widened, then he laughed and laughed until the teacher arrived, and class began.

*** 

In retrospect, Baze didn’t do half bad for a first-timer, and the teacher went fairly easy on him since he was a beginner. It was clear Chirrut had been doing it for a long time, and halfway through the session, Baze realised he could sit and watch Chirrut twist and turn into pose after pose, and not get tired of it.

It felt maybe…an invasion, though, to watch him like that. He hadn’t come to the class to oogle, or even to pick up. He’d come as a favour to a neighbour who hadn’t even showed. But by the time they lifted out of savasana, as the teacher had called it, to the soft tune of some accordion-like instrument Baze didn’t recognise, he wasn’t regretting showing up at all.

He rolled his mat slowly, feeling the outside world returning to his limbs, and he glanced over as Chirrut was slipping his mat into his mat bag.

“Have we convinced you to come again?” Chirrut asked after a while. And when Baze took a moment to answer, Chirrut frowned. “Or did you slip away and I’m talking to myself again?”

“No, god, sorry,” Baze said, blushing. “I uh…it wasn’t what I expected. But it wasn’t entirely bad, either.”

“So if your neighbour suggests another session…”

Baze hesitated, then said, “I won’t be disappointed if she doesn’t show up again.”

Chirrut’s face softened, and he hitched his bag on his shoulder, then grabbed his cane and led the way out. Baze followed on his heels, not really sure why, feeling a little like a lost puppy, but almost desperate for their time together to carry on.

“I usually take the bus,” Chirrut said. “There’s a smoothie place right behind my stop. Is there any chance you want to…”

“Yes,” Baze said, too eager, but at this point he didn’t care much. Chirrut had been mostly wrong—Baze didn’t hide out of fear of rejection. He had since learnt over his long years of life and heartbreak, that he wanted to be more fussy about the people he let in. He used his time alone to fine-tune himself, to look for traits in other people, the sorts of things he wanted to keep in his life.

He liked Chirrut’s sharp-edged honesty. And he liked his smile.

“May I take your arm?” Chirrut asked after a moment.

“Oh I don’t ah…I’m not sure what I’m doing,” Baze admitted.

“Just follow my lead,” Chirrut said, nudging him gently before placing his hand in the crook of Baze’s elbow. “I’m a pretty good guide.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re fucking with me now,” Baze said. “But…I don’t think I mind.”

“If that’s really the case,” Chirrut said thoughtfully as he urged them to begin a slow pace, “then I think we’ll be alright here. You and me.”

“Will we?” Baze asked.

Chirrut stopped, smiling at him again, sunny and beautiful. “Yes. Yes, I do. And if you buy me a smoothie, I’d say our future is very bright.”

Baze hesitated, then nudged Chirrut right back. “Then I suppose…that is acceptable.”


End file.
